<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>isn't that my shirt? by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892049">isn't that my shirt?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:14:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>467</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>thomas wakes up to find that alastair hasn't left for once. and even better, he's wearing a shirt that isn't his own...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alastair Carstairs &amp; Thomas Lightwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>isn't that my shirt?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thomas let the sunlight filter in as he lay on his back. It was the cusp of morning, and as per usual, he was alone. But he hadn't been earlier that day. Due to the fact his parents had gone on a 2 week trip in Idris, Alastair Carstairs showed up at his door one day. That day had ended with drunken kisses and when the sun had come up, Thomas had been left with nothing but an aching headache. Alastair had left. It saddened Thomas, just a little. So by the third day, Thomas had tried waking up earlier. Just to catch a glimpse of Alastair in the early morning light before the afternoon sun sharpened his features. But alas, every day, he ended up lying in his bed, alone, with only his clothes strung about the place.</p><p>But today, things were different. Thomas couldn't find his shirt. He heard a creaking sound and his hazel eyes fixed on the door. </p><p>Alastair walked through the door. His hair, dark as a crow's wing, curling down to his nape and his eyes, dark as his hair, were fixed on Thomas. He had two steaming cups of tea in his hands. </p><p>And he was wearing Thomas' shirt. The sleeves were much too long for him and he had rolled them up several times and they now resided at his mid arm. The hem was at his knees and Thomas could not stop himself from staring.</p><p>Alastair was clearly aware, as he had an extremely smug grin across his face. He handed Thomas a mug.</p><p>He took it.</p><p>"Why are you still here?" Thomas inquired. His voice was barely audible and the question was choked out.</p><p>Alastair's smug grin faded.</p><p>"I thought you wanted me here. I decided not to leave today, to see if you, like everyone else, never wanted me to stay."</p><p>He took a deep, shaky inhale and exhale. </p><p>"Looks like I was right."</p><p>Thomas frowned. Who were these people that hadn't wanted him to stay? Had Alastair been with others?</p><p>He turned to leave and Thomas grabbed his arm. He stopped dead in his tracks. What Thomas was about to say could've easily broken down the fragile, peculiar, yet valuable thing that they had built up.</p><p>"I want you to stay. My God, Alastair, I want you to stay. I've never wanted anything more."<br/>
Alastair turned back around and snaked his arms around Thomas' waist and pulled him in for a kiss that would linger on Thomas' lips for ages.</p><p>"Also, isn't that my shirt?"</p><p>Alastair laughed, and it was like a melody to Thomas' ears.</p><p>"Yeah. What about it?"</p><p>"Oh, nothing. Just jealous that it looks better on you than me."</p><p>Alastair winked.<br/>
Alastair Carstairs was really gonna be the death of Thomas, huh?</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>